Midnight Moon
by Twists Of Destiny
Summary: What's the best 25th birthday present have you been given? Cars, some new kitchen appliances... Being attacked by a werewolf and changed maybe? Well, Dean now has to suffer the affects of being non-human. Can he cope? Or will he kill? AU!
1. Prologue

Midnight Moon

Prologue

Sitting alone at the bar at midnight with a whiskey in hand is not how Dean Winchester expected his twenty-fifth birthday. No dad, no brother. Just him and this. . . oddly tasting whiskey. He put the cup down and stood up, barely able to stand up right without swaying. All he wanted was to be able to call his family and at least see if they were happy and safe. He knew they would be too wrapped up in their own worlds to remember his birthday, but that was ok. It wouldn't be the first birthday they had forgotten. Over the past year, he would drink to his families birthday's. This year, he would have to do it all again.

He walked out of the bar, the world tipping at an angle and he thought he was going to vomit. He called himself lucky when he didn't, judging by the quantity of alcohol he had drank. He got out to the Impala and crashed into the drivers seat. Arching himself off the seat, he stuck his hand in his pocket and fumbled with his keys, dragging them back out but his hand brushed against the fabric of his jeans and it took the keys from his hand. As he bent down to retrieve them, a wolf howled, it sounded a little close.

He sat bolt upright, keys in hand, wondering if he should take the son of a bitch down. He decided against it, if he couldn't stop shaking from the amount of alcohol his body was fighting off, how in the world would he aim and shoot a wolf dead?

Sticking the keys into the ignition and turning them, the Impala came to life. He sighed and fully relaxed. He turned out of the car park and onto the high way, turning on his music. He tapped the steering wheel in time with the beat of the drums and hummed along with the singer.

As he got into the middle of the highway, the engine shuddered and stopped suddenly, the music stopping halfway through the chorus. He stared at the dashboard with wide eyes, he couldn't believe his baby had just died on him. He smacked the wheel and got out, going toward the bonnet to see what went wrong. Everything seemed to be in order, but he knew something had to be wrong with the car, or it would not have given out on him.

The back of his neck prickled, sensing something was wrong. He was half-tempted to get back in the car and lock all the doors and wait until sunrise, but he had to get out of there, so he decided against it. The feeling grew. Grew until he was putting down the bonnet and making his way around the car.

There was a stick on the ground that he didn't see and he stepped on it and it rolled, taking him down to the ground, rolling his ankle badly. He bit back a cry of pain, bringing his leg up to clutch at his lower leg, near his ankle.

This was just perfect. He didn't think he could get back up and into the car, he didn't think he could get in the car and save himself from whatever was making chills run up and down his spine. Still, he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

He pulled out his gun and flicked off the safety. Anything that wanted to come and get him would eat a bullet, he wouldn't even hesitate to shoot whatever the hell that bastard was.

As the wind picked up, he could have sworn he heard a growl ripple through it. Ok, now he really had to get up and get in the Impala. Despite the fact that it probably would not go, it was still the biggest use of protection he had.

He dragged himself into a sitting position and fumbled with the door, trying to get a hold on the handle and open it. His hand was so sweaty that his grip failed a couple of times. The third time was the charm and he pushed himself up, using the door to help, left leg elevated off the ground. He went to climb in and then his worst nightmare happened.

Something bit into the hem of his jeans and pulled. His whole body gave out from underneath him and his upper body smacked onto the floor of the Impala and his head began to bleed as it was scraped along the rocky ground.

He tried to make a grab for anything to help keep him from being dragged into the forest, he wished he had just stayed in the Impala, or in the bar for a little while longer. He might not have been in this position if he had.

Using his bad leg, he kicked out at the thing, still making grabs on a few passing trees and thick weeds, even a bush at one point. Nothing he had gotten a hold of stopped him from being dragged off. It was either too slippery or the thing dragging him off was too strong.

That didn't stop him from trying. He was amazed that he managed to keep the gun in his hand, despite how much nature was throwing at him, trying to get him to let go of the weapon. He managed to catch a glimpse at the sky and his heart almost failed on him.

It was the full moon.

That meant there could only be one thing that was pulling him through the woods. A werewolf.

His struggling intensified, until he smacked his head on a passing tree and knocked him out.

When he woke, he was lying in a clearing, his body aching from everything it had just been put through. He could feel his heart pumping through his chest and his breathing was ragged and uneven.

Remembering what happened to him, he pushed himself up and tried to run. The most excruciating pain shot up his left leg and brought him back down with a howl of pain. He clutched at it and held back the tears that sprung to his eyes and made them swim.

Twigs snapped and he heard deep, monsterous breathing that made his heart almost stop. He began to crawl away, using his right leg, not his left.

The werewolf attacked him then, claws raking through his skin, throwing him around like a rag doll. The gun flew from his hand and landed five feet away from him. He punched and kicked, ignoring any pain that ran through him from the reactions.

Then the worst thing happened to him.

He was bitten.

His shoulder ached and he found his blood pumping all that much harder as the venom got into him. He started to shake as his body tried to fight against the toxins that had entered him, he knew it was all over for him now.

He punched the werewolf and crawled toward the gun. The wolf bit into the hem of his jeans when he was just mere inches away from the gun. He turned himself around, using most of the werewolf's strength to his advantage and kicked the wolf right in the face turned back around, grabbed the gun scrambled up onto his knees and shot at the werewolf as it lunged back toward it.

With a whimper, it went down, bullet hole through its chest.

Dean fell back down on his back and tried to ease his heavy breathing up a little bit. The adrenaline was hurting him and making him hallucinate a little bit. Within a couple of seconds, he realised that it was not the adrenaline. It was from the werewolf bite.

He pulled out his phone and thanked God that it worked. He called John, got voicemail, left a message saying he needed help badly and hung up. Called Bobby, voicemail, he gave up and didn't leave a message. He phoned his last lifeline. Sam.

It rang and rang and he prayed someone would pick up- that pretty little blond he saw Sam with once. Nobody did and he hung up.

Standing up, he knew he was on his own for this one.

Bitten and changing into a werewolf on his twenty-fifth birthday.

**To Be Continued...**

**Drop a review and let me know what you think of this story and if you want me to continue it. **


	2. Changing

Midnight Moon

Chapter 1

Sam and Jessica were curled up on the couch when his phone rang. They groaned, sick of all the phonecalls and messages they were getting. He reached over to the back of the couch and pulled out his phone and saw 'Dean' on caller I.D. He was immediately concerned, but he chose to let it go to voicemail. This was Jessica's birthday, and he was determined to spend it with her and not let anyone else get involved.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Jessica asked, looking at him carefully.

He shook his head. "Nah, its just my brother."

She gave him a look. "Maybe you should call back, I mean, you said yourself that your brother only calls if it is something important."

Sam shook his head. "Nah, I'll call back later, right now, this is our time."

Jess stood up. "No, I think you should ring back. Excuse me for this, but I have a feeling it is important. I'll be in the bedroom." She walked off and Sam knew if he didn't call, she'd kick him back out here to sleep.

He reached up and grabbed his phone and pressed Dean's speed dial. It only took a couple of rings before his brother answered. "Dean?" All he could hear on his big brothers end was grunting and twigs snapping. "Dean?"

"S-Sam-my."

That one word and Sam knew something was deadly wrong. "Dean, what happened? Where are you?" He clutched the phone tighter and sat bolt upright. "Dean?!"

"D-don't... know... T-they drag-dragged me... away."

Sam was almost completely freaking out. "Dean, who dragged you away? Where are you?"

"W-were... wolves."

Little brother's heart caught, out of all the things he expected Dean to say, that was the last on his list. "Dean, did they bite you?"

He couldn't handle the suspense, how long it took for Dean to say, "Yes."

Sam jumped up and crossed to the window and almost ripped the curtain in his haste to see outside. The big, round full moon was glaring back at him, like it was leering in what happened to his brother. "Aw, damn it!" He heard the choked sobs coming from Dean. "Tell me where you are. I'm coming to get you."

"No!" Dean shouted. "No, just-just don't ok... damn it. I'm changing Sammy, on my birthday too! What kind of present is that?"

Sam's heart stopped, he had totally forgotten that Jess and Dean shared the same birthday. "I-I'm sorry..."

Dean gave a sob-ridden laugh. "For what? Last time I checked, you were not a werewolf. You didn't do this to me... Sam, I can't live like this, I can't. I'm now a danger to the world. I got to... to die, Sammy."

"N-no, no you don't. I can help, me and Jess can help you."

"Does pretty little Jess know about what you do, the things you have done? To you even want me near her, even when I was human?" Dean asked. "Your estranged big brother near your normal girlfriend?"

The answer was no, but at that point in time, Dean had not had his life being revolved upside down. "I didn't. But now I do. Dean, you need me now, I can't just ignore that now." He wouldn't, now that he knew of the drastic changes his brother would face a week every month for the rest of his life. "Tell me where you are. I'm coming to get you and that is final."

"What if I hurt you, Sammy, what if I bite you?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair, grabbing his jacket, turning off the t.v and going to find his shoes. "You won't. You won't let yourself do that to me or Jess. Its the last day of the cycle. You won't get your poison until the next month now."

"Doesn't matter, I'm a monster now. We kill monsters, I have to die."

"Don't talk like that!" Sam very nearly shouted. "You're not a monster! I won't let you talk about yourself that way, I won't let you kill yourself either. Tell me where you are."

There was a few seconds of silence. "I don't know... I-I was at a bar in-in an almost area... the bar- the bar is called Jack Monroy B-bar and Grill... I can't... I can't remember where that is..."

Sam's heart almost broke at how young and broken his brother sounded. "I know where that is, I'm coming to get you, ok?"

"Alright..."

He said his goodbyes and hung up on Dean, going in to his room to tell Jess.

She was shocked at the fact that her boyfriend and his family used to hunt down supernatural creatures and that she was going to be living with Sam's brother who had just been attacked and bitten by a werewolf, but she stayed calm and told him to go get Dean. Bring him back again and that she would get started on clearing out the spare bedroom for him.

Sam was nervous the whole way there. He couldn't stop thinking about what his brother had gone through, what he had faced and what he was going to become.

Not only would they need a bedroom for him, they would need to move out into an open area, where there was no human's around and possibly build a panic room like the one Bobby had built. Just so they had somewhere safe for Dean if people visited during the week of the full moon.

He reached the Bar and Grill at three in the morning and found that there was no Impala in any of the car park spots. Of course he wouldn't be there, the werewolf wouldn't have gone near it. It was too crowded.

He continued down the highway until he saw the Impala and Dean, beaten and bloody, was leaning against it. Sam stopped the car, tyres squealing loudly and leaving skid marks on the ground but he didn't care. He spun the car around to Dean's side of the road and got out running toward his brother and enveloped him in a hug.

Dean didn't hug back, he would hurt his little brother if he did. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

"Come on," Sam muttered, gripping Dean's arm, "lets get you in the car. Where is the werewolf?"

Dean sniffed. "Dead. Shot it just after it bit me."

He got into the passenger side and almost folded in on himself, trying to keep his shaking limbs from getting the better of him. He could smell his brothers scent even when Sam wasn't in the car yet. The saliva in his mouth was building and he could hear Sam's heart pumping and he wanted to rip it from his chest. He held back, he would not kill his own brother. Not when his whole life had been about protecting him.

Sam got into the car and noticed how Dean had huddled close to the door and was avoiding looking at him. He saw how bad Dean was shaking and his first thought was that he was cold, but then it dawned on him that the changing he was going through and all the new senses he would have to adapt to was making him be like this.

He felt really saddened by the idea. The man sitting next to him looked like his big brother, but inside, he knew that this was just his shell and something worse was growing inside of him. Dean would never be the same again.

The drive back was long and tense.

Sam was wondering what reaction Dean would get from Jess. He pleaded internally that she wouldn't treat him like a dog and throw a bone at him. He knew his brother and now that he was transforming into something else, she might be at the top of the 'must kill' list if she did make a bit of a joke about his predicament.

He felt disgusted with himself for thinking that Dean would actually kill people now that he had become a 'monster', his words, not Sam's.

Dean was still in there somewhere, even if Dean refuse to see and admit it himself.

Dean was a kind, caring person. He was not, nor would he ever be a monster.

When they pulled up at the apartment, Sam heard a whimper from Dean and wondered why that was. _The human's in there. Dean must be able to sense them. _God damn it, this just kept getting worse and worse.

"Come on, Dean," he sighed. "Look, I know you. You wouldn't hurt them."

Dean shook his head and met his gaze. "You used to know me, Sam. I'm not the person I was before."

"That's not true. You shouldn't let this have an affect on you too much. Dawn is three hours away, you won't have to put up with this much longer. Just come inside. You'll be safe, I prom-"

"Don't you dare."

Sam looked at Dean, bewildered. "Do what?"

"Make a promise that you can't keep. Don't do it."

"But I can keep this promise," Sam insisted.

Dean glared at him. "You think you can, but deep down, you know that you can't. I'm not your brother anymore Sam. I know that somehow I still am, but in a big way, I'm not anymore. I've become the same thing we hunt."

That struck hard in Sam's heart. "You aren't a monster! You're still a good person."

"You and I both know that isn't true. Can you call for a tow and get them to bring the Impala to some shed here?" Dean asked, growling internally at why Sam had to live in an area that was so full of humans that it was driving him insane.

Sam was still reeling from the whole lot of this, he couldn't imagine how his brother was handling this. "Y-yeah, sure. Come on, come inside."

Dean undid his seatbelt, which he had put on in the first place so his hands would have something to do. He got out of the car and the smell just strengthened and he covered his mouth with his overshirt, eventually taking it off to block the stench that seemed to stain the air.

Sam felt incredibly bad for him. He didn't see how this was going to get better. He wondered what reaction he would have to Jess when they got inside. Guess there was no time like the present because as soon as he opened the door, Jess came barreling into the room, stopping herself from going up to Dean and giving him a hug like she did all their house guests.

"Dean, this is Jess."

**To Be Continued...**

**And I think I'll put a surprise in the next chapter.**

**Keep Reading!**


	3. Calling John

Midnight Moon

Chapter 2

**Damn son of a bitch kept this chapter from being seen. Hopefully, this time round works...**

Dean closed his eyes, burying his face deeper into the shirt. Her scent was almost teasing him, leering at him to come and get her, sink his teeth into her skin. He didn't know what her scent smelled like, it was a mixture of many different things.

The way she smiled at him, that was icing on the cake and he lunged at her. She had barely enough time to scream before he tackled her, he felt Sam grab hold of him and yank him off before he got the chance to bite and or devour her.

His eyes widened at the whimpering girl on the floor, knowing it was because of him that she was like that in the first place.

He managed a small, "I'm sorry," before he took off back outside, that only made his desire for flesh worse and he crumpled against the corner of the balcony.

He whimpered, outside was even worse... he could smell everybody. He wanted to kill them all He buried his face into his arms as he wrapped them around his knees. He wanted to run into every apartment and rip these human's to shreds. It was a desire he wanted to give into. He wanted to know what these people tasted like, if it was really like what the scent gave off. He wouldn't allow himself to. He was not a killer.

No matter what he thought, there was a single piece of humanity left in him, burning hotter then the sun. He was going to hold onto that and he was not going to let it go, not until his time was up. Which would be whenever he decided, because God had stopped his life-clock when he got bitten. He was meant to die then, back in those woods, taken down by something he hunted.

He heard the squeak of the screen door and expected it was Sam coming to tell him off, but this scent was the same one he had wanted and almost gotten back in there; Jessica's. He flinched as her hand touched down on his skin. He didn't want her out there, he had almost killed her. His own brother's girlfriend.

"Hey," she whispered, God, her voice was as nice as her smell. "Look, calm down. I know you wouldn't have attacked me if you had the choice. Sam told me everything before he left to get you."

He looked up at her with red, puffy eyes. "You must have thought he was crazy... that is until you met me."

She smiled, the same smile that had broken his walls and made him attack her. "I did. I also know that this isn't your fault. I don't blame you for attacking me. I guess I should stop with the perfumes and inscents."

He chuckled. "It would help a bunch. I just hope it doesn't stick, you smell too good, so does everyone else in this damn place." He looked up at the roof, concealing some more sweet-smelling people. Except for the drunk on the top level. He smelled disgusting. Like he hadn't showered in two weeks. It was amazing that he could locate them with only his senses. He could smell a early riser doing her morning jog just below them on the street.

"What do you mean by that?"

He smiled. "Look below us. Is there a woman jogging below us?"

She looked over the balcony and there was Lucy, doing her five-in-the-morning run. "How do you know?"

"Because I could sense her down there. I am dangerous. You both shouldn't be housing me. I should be dead already like I had planned before Sam came and got me."

Jess narrowed her eyes. "Don't talk like that," she ordered darkly. "You don't deserve to die, this is just a minor thing, you'll get used to it and get over it."

Dean shook his head, not faultering at her sudden attitude. "This isn't something you just get over. I am what I hunt and now I know why they are the way they are. Its because they have no choice, no conscious thought in what they are doing. Its part of them, you can't rip it off or wash it away; its there _forever_. I'm stuck like this until I die. And it will be soon, because I'll have a bunch of hunters tailing me, all wanting to shoot my ass dead." He chuckled. "Normally, I would be one of the hunters tracking, guess tables really do turn, don't they?"

Jess didn't like his attitude, but could get where he was coming from with this. "Sam and I are here to help."

"And you'll wind up dead for trying," Dean rebuked. "I'm now a natural killer. Sweetheart, its time to learn to load up that shotgun that Sam has hidden under the bed and shoot me dead like the animal I am, or I will go crazy on the world." He shook his head. "Nobody in this stupid city would live normally if I do."

Sam must have been listening in, because he burst out the door. "Don't say that!" He shouted. "Don't act like-"

"Like I don't have a choice? Sam, I don't. It makes matters worse that I have been trained to fight and handle guns and everything. My condition makes me more lethal then I should be. Imagine how dad is going to take this," Dean lowered his voice, "to know that his son has become this. He'll come alright, loaded pistol full of silver bullets and shoot me a good one. Call him, leave a message and see if I'm right."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "No, no I won't."

"Do it."

"No."

"Sammy..."

"NO!"

"I DON'T CARE! This is my life, my condition and I'll deal with it the way I want." He stood up. "And if I want to die, then I want to die. Its simple as that."

Both brothers stood their ground, a nervous Jess watching them first and for the first time since she had met him, Sam backed down. "Fine I'll call dad, but if he tries to shoot you, I'll set you loose."

Dean growled, stopping immediately after he noticed the sound he was making. "I'm not a dog." Not until next month at the very least.

Sam ignored that little statement, smiling a little. If Dean was defending himself right after he was attacked, there was proof that he really hadn't changed much on the inside. That Dean was still the Dean he remembered before.

He picked up his mobile from the coffee table. He pressed 'Dad' on his contact list and called him. He wasn't surprised when he got voicemail. Choosing against leaving a strongly worded message, he knew his father would never come if he did.

"Dad, its Sam. I'm calling because of Dean. He was attacked by a werewolf last night, bitten actually. I'm not sure if you know, but last night was the last night of the lunar cycle. Dad, Dean's a werewolf now. If you come over, promise me you won't kill him. Its still Dean in there and there is still hope for him. Right after he attacked Jess, he was repenant. He's not a monster and he shouldn't be treated like one. We've got to keep him secret from the other hunters." He hung up, biting against his index finger, wondering if he had done the right thing in calling in the first place. John was like a hunter first, father later.

Jess walked into the room. "Its what Dean wanted," she said. "He wanted his father to know, he knows. What harm could it do?"

Sam turned to her, emotionally distressed. "Our father is a supernatural hunter. I'm sure he'd just load up the shotgun and drive up here and kill him."

Wrapping her arms around her man, Jess said, "I'm sure he wouldn't. He'd want to be there for his son, no matter what."

"Our dad is the kind of person to shoot at his problem rather then face it. Dean's condition is a problem. I've just alerted dad. I can hear the gun being loaded as we speak. Though Dean would be able to pick up his scent before he gets to the front door."

"Stop it. Look, I know nothing about your family, but I think your dad is going to want to be there for Dean through this. Its not easy, I know, but if all three of you work at it, Dean will learn to control his new desires."

"What, by locking him in Bobby's panic room? Oh yeah, Dean will really panic."

She couldn't help but giggle a little. "No, you big silly. That won't help at all. Its got to be dealt with hands on. Dean's going to need us to fall back on and he'll be falling back a lot."

That's for damn sure, Sam thought. "What if we can't help? What if we make it worse?"

"Its going to get worse before it gets better, we just got to keep a level head and some confidence. I bet Dean would feed off of that. Just like he almost fed off me." Her voice was almost too bright for Sam's liking. "I mean, I'm sure he wouldn't have if he had the choice, but he almost did. We got to take mistakes like that and learn from them. Starting with getting rid of deoderants, incents and any other smelly things that will drive Dean insane."

"Next is, when dad comes, we put this town in our rear-view mirror and go somewhere were the air is fresh and pure."

"See, we're helping already."

A loud scream echoed through the apartment and their blood chilled.

Running outside, they found an old lady on the ground with Dean infront of her with his back turned to her. He was staring at a man who clutched a gun and what Sam knew to be the ladies handbag.

"Give it back," Dean snarled, ignoring the weapon completely; he had nothing to lose. "Or I will snap you in half like the pathetic thing that you are. I'll give you ten seconds and don't even try to run, I'll just catch up in seconds anyway. Ten..."

He hadn't even gotten to nine when the man threw the bag down and ran for his life. Dean turned toward the lady, ignoring her scent pointedly and helped her to her feet.

"Thank you, sir," she said, giving him a firm handshake once she was steady on her feet. "I thought for sure he was going to steal my bag. I have valuables in there, I can't thank you enough!"

Dean smiled, a little painfully. "Don't mention it ma'am, I was just happy to be of help." He got her across the street and continued to wave her away until she turned a corner and was gone from his sight.

He looked up toward the apartment and saw Jess and Sam standing there, looks of pride on their faces and he smiled. Maybe he wasn't truely a monster after all.

Once he got up to them, he shuffled nervously, wondering what they were going to say to him. Jess didn't say a word, only gave him a strong hug. Sam wanted to say something to him, but he was at a loss for words.

He still had the big brother he had always known.

***

Dean was asleep in the spare bedroom, curled up in the fetal position. Sam finally saw that he was calm, calmer then he had been the few hours after he was attacked that was for sure. Even in his sleep, he was still shaking, trying to stop himself from giving in to his wolfish desires.

Sam had to admit, he was doing a great job of it.

As he turned away from the bedroom, the front door burst open and John Winchester walked through, a worried expression on his face.

**To Be Continued...**

**Well, at this point, I don't know whether to say 'uh oh' or 'yay!' So drop me a review and tell me what you think, 'cause that's what's more important.**

**Oh, and check out my new story-- yeah, yeah, its early, I know-- 'Scar Shadow'. If you like dark themes and horror/violence and Winchester love, this is for you!**

**Keep Reading!**


	4. Father Son Chat

Midnight Moon

Chapter 3

Sam didn't know whether to block the Dean's bedroom door or not. He didn't see a gun in John's hand, but that didn't mean he didn't have one on him. His son was turned and John might want to get rid of him and Sam couldn't allow that.

Dean sat upright in the bed. "Dad's here," he muttered softly.

"How do you know?" Sam asked, glancing behind him with a bewildered expression.

Big brother smiled. "I'd know that scent anywhere." He got up out of the bed and came to stand beside Sam, gazing apprehensively at his father. "Hi dad," he managed to say, his voice quivering. He was waiting for the gun to be drawn and his life to end with a bullet inside of him.

Instead, what he got was a bone-crushing hug. Something he would never have expected from the likes of his father, who wasn't much of the hands-on kind of person. He was more of a hard-ass then that. That didn't stop him from returning the hug, making sure he didn't apply his new-found strength into it, or he might choke John to death. He had known how strong he was in his former life, but now, he just didn't have a clue.

"Oh, my God," John whispered.

He knew he had to kill his son, but he couldn't, he wouldn't. Dean wasn't showing any signs of animalism, so what was the point? He clutched at his eldest tightly, wondering what he would become next month around this time. What he would see his son turn into, and if it really would be his son at all. Right now, Dean was Dean, and that was all that matteed right now. He felt Dean quivering a little before he pulled away, wiping his eyes.

"All of your scents are too strong," he muttered. "Can't take much more of it. Jess, I thought you got rid of the perfume!"

Jess blushed. "I did."

"No you didn't, I smell it. Its on top of your drawer, lid unscrewed halfway, you used it about... half an hour ago." John's eyes widened in curiousity. "I'm more in-tune with everything around me, now. My sense of smell is stronger and my eyesight is sharper. I can see things from up to two miles away."

John nodded and directed his gaze down to the floor. His son has been changed alright. He had gotten the missed call from Dean the night of his twenty-fifth- the day he was changed. How could that be justified? His only birthday present was a werewolf attack and change.

"Sorry," Dean muttered.

John looked up. "About what?"

It was all Dean could do to hold back the tears and keep himself from attacking his own father. "I wasn't quick enough this time. . . it just came up behind me, right after I rolled my ankle on a freaking twig."

Sensing his son's self-loathing, John put his hands on his son's shoulders. "That doesn't matter now, it wasn't your fault, and there's no point wasting our time on 'what if's'."

Dean knew he was right, but he couldn't get over the hate for himself. If he had been more alert with less alcohol in his system, then this would never have happened. "Alright," he said, despite how he felt. He wasn't going to publicize it. They wanted the old Dean Winchester, he'd give it to them.

John smiled, and Dean knew that pretending to be the regular him was worth it. "Good." He sighed and turned to Sam and Jess. "So, where do we go from here?"

Sam almost sighed and collapsed with relief. There would be no old-school shoot-out. "Well, we were thinking of moving out and into somewhere more open, less human activity. Every full moon, we could let Dean out and seal the doors and windows until morning and then repeat the process nightly."

"Don't werewolves change in their sleep?" Jess asked, confused. She needed to know more stuff about this new, and strange world.

Sam shook his head. "Not necessarily, that's just one of the ways. See, we don't exactly know how Dean will change; in his sleep, under the full moon or inside a house on the full moon. Or how long it will last; nightly, over the week. There are so many ways for a werewolf to revert from human form to that of a werewolf."

"Nerd," Dean muttered, good-naturedly.

Sam smiled, which was almost instantly lost. "There is also a legend that werewolves don't need the full moon to change. That after the first lunar cycle, they can change whenever they pleased."

Dean gulped. What if he could do that? What if he couldn't control himself? The lunar cycle would right itself in exactly a month, he was going to get worse and worse. He could kill his whole family and Jess with a single snap of his wrist. John might have been the strongest of them all, that had all changed now.

He was a _freak_. Half-breed.

Jess seemed to notice how much this subject was bothering Dean. "How about I put dinner on, huh? Dean, you want to help?"

_As long as there's no meat. . . _"Yeah, sure."

There was meat. Bloody, but not too bloody and his mouth was watering. He longed to take that from the tray and devour it, he tried to deny himself that, but it was too difficult; this new longing was a part of him now.

Jess saw that. "Uh, there's some meat in the fridge if you want some?" She watched as he slowly shook his head, still staring at the meat she was cutting with half-longing half-serious had her on edge. "Well, if you want some, you know where it is." He nodded, equally as slow as the last one.

Sam walked in, noticing how much Dean was shaking. "Do you want some meat?" He asked, almost casually. Dean shook his head. "Are you sure, because there is some - "

"I said no!" Dean shouted, making them flinch and take a step back. "God, if I wanted some, I would have asked! Stop bloody treating me like some wild animal you plucked off the streets!" With that, he abandoned chopping the vegetables and stormed from the room.

John walked in and bumped into his eldest as he passed. Looking at Sam and to the front door in which Dean disappeared out of, he said, "What happened now?"

Sam sighed, messing his hair up. "We asked if Dean wanted some meat and he snapped, thinking we meant him to be some worthless stray. . . Man, I have to talk to him. . ."

John stopped his son from leaving. "Maybe-maybe I should do it?"

Nodding, Sam allowed his father to go to Dean, wishing and hoping he wouldn't make things worse. After all, John Winchester wasn't known for being gentle.

John walked out of the apartment, to see his eldest crumpled in a corner of the balcony, using his shirt to cover his face. He groaned light-heartedly as he sat down next to him, wishing he was younger.

"See what you're doing to your old man?" He joked. "I'll be pushing ninety soon, just you wait." He chuckled a bit, stopping when Dean didn't join in, or he seemingly didn't even acknowlege he said anything. "What's gotten into you, lately?"

Dean lifted his head. "Werewolf venom," he answered simply, then put his face back down in his shirt, using his own scent to block out everyone else's.

John nodded. "I know that. . . But, Dean, you can't let this take over your life, its not who you are."

"Its not who I was before," Dean corrected. "Its who I am now, and there is nothing I can do to stop that, Dad. Nothing." He sighed, shaking his head. "My whole life I've been hunting down things like this. . . Now I am one. Its kind of like, Just Desserts. After all this time, I was blind to the fact that they had no choice, it comes with the territory."

John sat and listened, not offering support verbally; letting Dean talk and get this off his chest was support enough.

"I mean, everything we hunt was human once; werewolves, vampires, demon's. They were all changed by something and they all suffered. Now I'm getting the same treatment." He smiled and laughed, though it was sallow and humorless. "I can smell everyone within a mile radius. Just by their smell, I can process who their names are, don't ask me how I can do this, because I really don't know." He turned to John. "Why didn't you just shoot me?"

John's mouth dropped. "What?" he muttered.

Dean talked over the top of him. "You hunt the supernatural - I am one of them now. Please, just save me the torment and end my misery- I want to be this way as much as you like to live with one of my kind."

"I'm not killing you."

"Why?" Dean demanded. "Why not? You have a gun- no wait," he pulled out his own gun, "here, I'll make it easy for you. Kill me."

John took the gun apart and did the same with his own, pocketing the pieces. "I'm not going to kill you, Dean. I know you, you're not like the rest of them."

Dean gulped. "Well maybe I wasn't before," his voice rose steadily, "but I am now. Do me this one thing and freakin' end this thing before it get's any worse! I'm a monster- a killing _machine_."

"No. You just think you are."

Dean looked up and then stood up. He clutched hold of a little post helping a bigger one holding the roof up and pulled. It broke cleanly in his hand, with a loud crunching sound. He held his hand out to John, the beam in his flat palm and then he closed his fingers around it, effectively crushing it to dust.

"See what I can do?" He asked quietly. "I didn't even break a sweat." He looked up. "That is everyone I care about, if you don't end this."

Father and son stared each other down, Dean having the new-found strength to keep himself from losing it. John then stood, towering over Dean, though at this point in time, it did no good.

"I'm not killing you, Dean. So get that out of your head now. Look, I know this is hard for you, and we'll get through it together, as a family."

Dean shook his head. "Too late to be a family now, Dad. As of now, we're a bunch of practical strangers living together. We had plenty opportunity when I was human. Why start now that I am different?"

John sighed. "Look, I get that you are mad and you have every right in the world to be, but you need us. There is no denying that." He let that hang for a few minutes. "As for the family part, no, I barely know about either of my son's. No time like the present, I always say."

"You don't always say that, normally it's 'I found a new hunt'."

John smiled. "Maybe, but that is of the past now. We got to think of the now and the future. Come on, let's go back inside before we give Sam a heart attack. You should have seen his face when you went out."

"I guess that makes me a bad little mutt, doesn't it?"

John had to remind himself this was one of Dean's badly timed wisecracks. "Ha, very funny," he noted dryly. "Come on, inside."

Dean entered, feeling as out-of-place as anyone could possibly be.

Sam was sitting on the lounge and the smell of dinner hit the air and Dean fought against running toward the source. Upon seeing his older brother, Sam leapt up and opened his mouth to apologise.  
Dean held his hand up to stop him. "Don't."

"But-"

"Don't."

Sam smiled tentatively and Dean returned it. "Dinner's ready!" Jess called from the kitchen and everybody but Dean went in.

"You ok?" Sam asked, sticking his head around the corner. "You hungry?"

That was a stupid question. "Yeah, just-just give me a minute." He wanted time to clear his head, he figured with a thoughtless mind, he would have better control over himself and stop himself from hurting anyone.

Sitting at the dinner table, he found that to be a half-truth, he was sort of in control, though he found his senses struggling to overtake him. He figured that it was something he had to work at on his own.

**To Be Continued...**

**Thanks for the reviews guys! This chapter was a bit of a lead-on and in either this, or the next chapter will be a month ahead and Dean's first changing. I hope you liked my little analogy of different werewolf legends, I worked a bit hard on that, no Google whatsoever!**

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	5. Full Moon Transformation

Midnight Moon

Chapter 4

Dean had been feeling really weird all day. This was that time of the month, and no, it was nothing PMS style. This was his time of the month, the time of his first change. He was nervous, yet he could feel his whole body preparing for the change, like it was already building his second form or something. He wasn't even sure he could get the body of a werewolf in the first place, what did he have to do to get it, or did it just come naturally?

He hoped it wouldn't, hey, maybe there was some possibility he wouldn't change. . . though that would only be true if he had been bitten on a day off the lunar cycle. There was no chance of that happening at all. John, Sam and Jess were no help. Not that they weren't trying. . . they were trying too much. Trying to understand what he was going through and what he would experience. Sometimes, they could just give a whole other meaning to the word 'annoying'.

Though, they had made the right decision to drive him somewhere cut off from human meat supply. He doubted he would be able to handle it if he was still in the city. With all that meat on this day - on this week. God. Oh, wait. He couldn't say that anymore. God and Jesus were human's belief's and Christianity was a human religion. Since he was no longer human, he couldn't smite them or anything like that.

He wondered what religion werewolves had; Courses on Flesh-Eating Bastards 101, maybe?

That sure would be a fun lesson. String a human to the roof and see which werewolf can get to him the faster. Beastly game of that old human kiddy game Octopus. Only the human had to do their best to dodge the 'it' person - or thing.

Jess was doing her female obsessive thing. He wondered if it was contagious, because Sam was fussing and worrying over him too. All three were upset about leaving Dean out here on his own for a week. Dean just hoped there wasn't any hikers out this week, that's all he cared about. He doubted he would be able to remember anything he would do.

Jess, John and Sam stayed out with Dean all afternoon, trying to take his - or their mind's off the events to come.

Blasting rock music, and then allowing Jess to choose the music. . . which Dean and John did their best to ignore.

Who would listen to Lady Gaga anyway? Sam was nodding his head to the beat, so they knew he had grown used to her music sense.

The elder Winchester men pitied him for it. You'd have to have a lot of patience and silence to be able to put up with the song 'Love Game' or 'Disco Stick'. Neither could work out what it was called. The lyrics were like repitition.

Sam began checking the sky every few minutes, instead of the watch on his wrist. Maybe he wanted to guess the time, instead of know it, thus knowing how long he had to spend with Dean. It wasn't like he wasn't coming back, but he was going to leave his changed-brother out for a week. Seven whole days.

Nightfall was dropping in and Dean's shaking was getting worse as he tried to stop his body from doing the inevitable.

"G-go," he said, clenching his fists once the full moon had made its way over the treetops. He looked up with wild, feral eyes. A little bit of humanity still left in his body. "Now! Go!"

John, Sam and Jess slowly backed up toward the car, unwilling to leave him, but they didn't have any choice if they wanted to stay alive.

Dean's head snapped back and a howl of pain erupted from him, the movies made changing forms look so damn easy. In retrospect, they were so excrutiatingly painful. His scream was cut off mid-way, and his eyes went wide. Something was crushing his wind-pipe, blocking his voice.

As his fingernails grew claws and his hands and arms got more hair then he had ever seen on him in his whole life, the crushing feeling stopped, and his heart-beat was racing a mile an hour. A normal speed for a werewolf, even his heart had gone through a change. His arms bulked up more, ripping the arms of his shirt, almost taking it right down to the seam's.

He heard the screech of the Impala's tyres and a part of his brain - the 'human' part he liked to call it - was glad they were going. Glad they were getting away from him while they still could. While he was still undergoing a change.

Unlike what he had expected, his clothes did not rip off. Instead, they seemed to have just disappeared. Not under the brownish-blond fur he now adorned, but literally disappeared.

As the full moon was high in the air, the wolf that had been standing in the place of Dean Winchester howled to it, to the pitch black night.

Then Dean ran, ran as fast as he could into the woods, and away from everything he had ever known. He sensed some sort of animal around him. . . Mountain Lion. But that was at least a mile away from him.

It was worth it.

The four-legged animal sped up, until it felt like his paws weren't even touching the ground. Guided by his sense of smell only, his sight was focused on not hitting anything. Though in his running, he saw everything as clear as day, when all human's would be able to see was a blur.

He got a mile behind him in a record two minutes, when he saw the Mountain Lion, the rest of the little humanity he had burned out. Full blown animalistic hunting skills won out and took over him.

He moved stealthily, not even crunching a twig or rustling bushes. It was like he weighed nothing at all.

But the Lion seemed to have sensed trouble, because it perked upwards, looking around and giving a little warning growl that would have scared something of a lesser animal then Dean, who was not scared in the slightest.

It seemed to be able to sense trouble still, and tried to leave. That's when Dean took his opportunity; when the Lion's back was turned. The element of surprise worked and it crumpled beneath his weight, though it shook him off pretty quick and regained composure.

It roared loudly and Dean matched it with his own growl. Neither species were going to back down, pride was a big matter between them, status to uphold. It was the Lion who made the first attack after circling around each other for a few moments.

Lion made a wild swing with it's paw, Dean, who could see plain as day in the darkness, was able to lean back and away from it, retaliating with one of his own. It landed its mark and a howl of pain erupted from it.

Dean kept it up, the talons of his paw digging in and raking the back of the Lion. But the ferocious beast wasn't done yet, and caught Dean with a smack of its paw, claws out, Dean bled out, a deep gash under his eye. That only fueled his anger.

With a burst of speed, he lunged the small distance between him and the Lion and his jaw fixed on the back of the neck and kept tightening until he felt it drop to the ground. Dead. With content, Dean started ripping the skin off the animal, eating like he had never eaten before.

***

John, Sam and Jess arrived back in the apartment. None could get the image of Dean's changing out of their head. Or what little they had seen. They only hoped he was coping out there on his own. They had purposely picked an area full of Mountain Lions and even a grizzly or two.

Jess tried to busy herself in one of her girly magazines, but her brain refused to concentrate on them. She hadn't known Dean for very long, but he had stolen her heart, in a different way then Sam had. She had thought of her boyfriend's older brother like a brother she never had. Except this brother could now go into total wolf form seven days a month. Still, that didn't change the fact that he was a nice person. Ever.

John announced he was going to take a shower and got to numb head-shakes from the other two. Sam collapsed next to his girlfriend.

"We did the right thing, didn't we?" He asked Jess, needing her judgement more then anything.

She didn't like being put on the spot like this. "Yeah, of course we did," she said, coming up with a few rebuking arguments with that.

They sent Dean out into the unknown. Just because he had these abilities, doesn't mean he knew how to use them. God know's what he is facing at this point? Who know's if he was killing or getting killed?

"We did the right thing," she repeated, wishing she could believe it with her whole heart.

Sam nodded, trusting her. He hoped by the end of the week, they would see Dean almost unharmed and back to his normal self again.

John, however, wasn't getting any comfort whatsoever. His mind had its own mind it seemed, because no matter what else he tried to think of, the last image of his eldest kept popping up.

A part of him wanted to go back there, the other part knew he was going to get himself killed if he did. Werewolves had speed and strength that would dominate over everything. Only vampires could rival that - and that is why they were natural enemies.

The lukewarm water barely did a thing, it didn't calm his nerves or his worries that came with being a father. God, he hated himself for this. If it hadn't been for him. . . teaching the boy's about the paranormal, they might not have been going through this - Dean would never be going through this. If his Dean was killed, he would never forgive himself for that. No matter what, the blame would be focused right on his shoulders.

He shut off the water, not wanting to run up his youngest's water bill. He got out and dried himself and got dressed, he kept working his jaw for some reason, like he had something to say, but no one to say it to.

When he left the bathroom, dropping his damp towel in the laundry, he smiled slightly at Sam and Jess curled on the couch. The t.v was on and he realised their distraction, it didn't seem to be working too well though. Their faces were twisted with worry and neither seemed to be relaxing.

And if this was day one, they could only imagine what the next six days would be like.

Eventually, they gave up and went to bed, feeling guilty because Dean was out there with no bed to sleep in, nothing to help him.

When they woke, it felt like they hadn't slept all night. Their breakfast might as well have been cardboard and they might as well have been showering in acid rain. No matter what they did, it was either stupid or disheartening. Dean had none of these luxuries.

John couldn't help but wonder about what Mary would think of this. How she would react knowing one of her son's was in this state. She would be appalled at him. He had wanted to be a father so badly before Dean was born. . . and this is how he raises them. On the dark side of the world, teetering on the edge of being a serial killer.

If he thought he was doing the best he could before, he didn't even know what to think now. This was not his best. . . this was his worst fathering attempt in history. He looked at Sam and wondered how he managed to stay safe. That question was answered immediately; Dean.

If Dean were still human, he would make a great father to some lucky woman's child. But because of the way he was raised and because of recent events, he would never get that life. He didn't even seem like he wanted it and John accepted that. How stupid he had been. Dean was like a male mirror reflection of Mary - and John knew how much she had wanted a family before they actually had son's.

Sam announced he was going for a walk, alone. Jess accepted that, but fatherly instincts told John that his youngest was going to find distraction from the bottle of a bottle. Hell, Sam really was like his father in so many ways. Both had neglected it, denying what was so true.

At ten in the morning, Sam had so many whiskey's and strong alcohol, that it made him tipsy.

He vaguely remembered swearing at the bartender who was telling him that he had obviously had enough. He didn't care how affronted she looked, she was just a cheap ho working the job to meet sex-addicts. She was no different to some of the bartenders he had seen over his life.

Then he was being dragged out of his seat, he fought weakly, his movements sluggish, until the voice of his father stopped him and he gave a mock salute before passing out completely.

He regretted his actions later when he had a massive hangover. Damn, he should have stayed drunk to avoid this. . .

***

Dean was having a hard time with the damn grizzly. Not only was it too big, but it had great reflexes too. Almost took his head off when he tried to get behind it. He wasn't going to give up though, it wasn't in his nature.

But it could attack and defend really well and he was having a hard time getting to the weak spots on it. Eventually it lashed out again and stood on its hind legs. Dean took his opportunity and his sharpened wolfish teeth sank into its leg and it howled, crashing back down to the ground and made it shudder.

He took out the other leg and then jumped up and sank his claws into the tender underbelly and dug in so deep that it stopped struggling as hard. He took another opportunity and raked across the throat and it died slowly, choking on its own blood.

Another magnificent feast waiting to be devoured. If only there was some God damn human's around, but he couldn't smell any. None were around at the moment. That hiker last night almost got it good. Scampered off before Dean could get him. Caught him good with the bag too.

The full moon was going down for the last time this month, and the sun was beginning to appear.

Dean turned to it and basked in the sunlight as he started growing like a tree on fast-forward. Pretty soon, human Dean stood there, getting a small case of temporary vertigo as his body repaired itself from the seven days of hunting. No sleep, just constant eating.

His clothes had come back from wherever they had disappeared to and he was thankful for that.

Once he managed to find his way back to the road, the Impala sat there with all three people inside it. They waved to him and he managed a small nod back. Boy, things sure felt different now.

**To Be Continued. . . **

**Yeah, this was a beauty and a toughie to write haha! I mean, how in the world do you type a transformation and make it believeable? I only wish that I managed to do that. I enjoyed writing about the Mountain Lion and the Grizzly Bear. Though the bear's limelight was a little bit shorter then lion. Oh well, maybe it can come back as a ghost or something - Joking!**

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